


Leaving Behind Childhood Memories

by Ladylauralue



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5846068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylauralue/pseuds/Ladylauralue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Gaston and Belle were actually friends? Maybe not close, but marriage to him wouldn't have been awful. What if he ran into Belle first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Behind Childhood Memories

It was the evening of her tenth birthday that she’d met Gaston, a page for one of her father’s knights. Belle had befriended him immediately. Most of the girls, and all of the boys disliked having to sit and listen to her questions and recounts of stories, and so she’d learned to keep her thoughts and words to herself. But the little page with dark hair and a slightly permanent pout sought her out, wanting to listen to her battle stories. He wanted to be a knight, to do good deeds and save people who needed help, and the little princess knew all the things a page needed to know to become a knight. She knew all the stories, all the fireside tales and was always happy to tell them when he was at the castle and was able to find a few free moments. Lord Maurice had seen marriage in the budding friendship and started a communication with Gaston’s father.

Eventually Gaston became a squire and then a knight. Almost immediately after the knighting Lord Maurice declared their betrothal. Belle had known, and though not unhappy, she felt dissatisfied. Gaston was kind, if not overly intelligent, and at least he never got bored with her stories. He didn’t always ask her about the books she was reading, but he never stopped her from talking about them unsolicited. He had a very keen understanding of battlefield strategy, but couldn’t always manage subtly or subterfuge. Sometimes late into the evening Belle would be going over old stories where surprise attacks won the day or went awry, trying to help him understand options and consequences. They could be content, in the precarious fragility of life at war, to be married to one another. Belle had accepted that, had almost looked forward to the certainty of marriage when the ogre war became another bloodbath. She heard whispers at first, ogres hardly resting after battles, driving onward leaving death and destruction in their wake. Farmers setting their fields afire as they fled for their lives with their families, wandering the highways as they slowly starved to death. The castle kept some provisions against famine, as did many of the knights, but there was only so much to go around. Rationing riots had started in some areas, though in weakness and starved fatigue they never lasted long.

Driven by desperation, Lord Maurice had called upon his knights to contribute some of the contents of their treasury to pay for striking a deal with The Dark One. They had readily answered, anxious for salvation from any source and sent what they thought would please and appease the powerful sorcerer. As the treasure poured in, the court tried to prepare themselves for meeting Rumpelstiltskin, the man who’s name many feared to even think. He had appeared when hope seemed foolish and safety out of reach. With flourishes and snickers he had held out salvation with a cruel choice. What need had he of gold, who was powerful enough to spin it from simple straw? He demanded Belle, or he would make no deal. Gaston had stepped up, ready to protect his friend and future bride, remembering vividly the stories Belle had told in their innocent childhood of the child stealing sorcerer. Rumpelstiltskin had batted the sword away as though Gaston was an annoying child with a stick. Gaston was apprehensive, trying to recall the lessons he and Belle had spent trying to learn to be clever, but he couldn’t remember anything useful. He was failing his friend, and she chose to be taken to the Dark Castle to be a servant. He knew how important her choice and freedom were to her, but between a rock and a hard place, what good was choice?

^^^^^^

Belle had been at the Dark Castle for months. She’d kept track at first, and then become so busy with chores and settling in that she’d forgotten and lost track. Harvest had been over, the beginnings of winter creeping in when she’d left with Rumpelstiltskin, and now spring was beginning to bloom around the castle. There were a few gardens, her preferred haunt being the kitchen once shoots started appearing through the dark earth, but occasionally, like today, she wandered a bit through the gardens at the front of the castle, overlooking the mountains and valleys surrounding her new home. She could lose herself a bit; pretend she was on an adventure before Rumpelstiltskin called her in for another task or a meal. A small, sharp crack had her looking around before finding the familiar face of her former fiancée. “Gaston!” she cried, remembering too late the man she served and his uncanny ability to be where he was least expected. “What are you doing here?”

His bright smile warmed her heart when he answered. “I’m here to rescue you. Subtly, like Herosi!” He said, citing her favorite example of subtle battle strategy.

“You came all this way? In winter?” Looking towards the mountains she knew her homeland lay behind, Belle felt a pang of homesickness. “Just to come rescue me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” His bright way of speaking had her smiling along with him. “Lord Maurice wanted me to rescue you, but I remember what you said about deals, especially with _him_.” His last words were punctuated by a look and a nod at the castle before them.

Her father wanted to break her deal? “But the ogres are gone, aren’t they? Everyone is safe?” Why else would her father want her to come home? She found a dryer patch of clover and sat down, gesturing for her childhood friend to do the same. Even sitting cross-legged beside her he was a towering man.

Gaston nodded “Everyone is safe, more than. There was enough food to make sure everyone was well fed through the winter,” puzzlement clouded his face “No one has records that account for that though.”

Grinning, Belle leaned closer “That must have been him. He said my friends and family would all live. He meant more than just surviving the ogres.” He’d done more than keep his word,; he’d kept a bargain she hadn’t even realized she was making. Frowning, she faced Gaston, meeting his dark eyes with hers “Why does he want me to come home?”

“He thinks your trapped here,” Gaston was hesitant as he said it, leading Belle to believe there was more to things than he was letting on. “He doesn’t speak of it much, but when he does…” Belle waited patiently while he searched for the words. “He’s not angry, but it’s like he is.”

Belle pondered over the words, knowing Gaston was watching her, waiting for understanding. It had often been this way, he followed where she led, and he listened while she taught. The only reason she could think for her father to want her back was if the deal hadn’t been kept. But if it had… “My father, he put you up to this?”

Blushing and looking away, Gaston nodded. “I must be a terrible fiancée if I have to be told to rescue you.”

Reaching out, Belle struck his arm lightly, playfully. “You are _not_. You are a good, honorable knight. You expect others to be good and honorable too.” Honor, bravery, hope; all things they’d loved in the stories she told. “I’ve kept my word, and Rumpelstiltskin has kept his. I’m a caretaker, nothing less, nothing more.”

“Are you happy here?” Gaston asked, half innocence, half worry. “I couldn’t bear it if you were unhappy here, deal or no.”

“I’m not unhappy.” She said evasively. She’d wanted much more out of life, but she was safe and secure here, and she was smart enough to understand the importance of both those qualities in life. “I get to read as much as I want, books I’ve never read before.”

Gaston laughed at that “New stories? I wish I could hear them,” he said quietly.

With new consideration, Belle studied her childhood friend. “Gaston, you should find someone new to be happy with. My life is here now, and you shouldn’t put yours on hold, or at risk.”

Glumly he nodded. “I know. But… do you ever sometimes wish we could go back to being children again?” sighing he shook his head. “Never mind, that’s a stupid thought.”

Squeezing his shoulder, Belle tried to think of reassuring things to say. “It’s not stupid to wish for simpler times. Do you think you’re alone in wanting?” She leaned against her outstretched arm “Life as a child feels less complicated when we look back on it.”

She felt Gaston nod and they both sat in silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat. “My father has gone into new negotiations.” Sharply she raised her head, the question at the tip of her tongue before Gaston continued “With another Duke.”

Nodding sagely, Belle understood why her father would insist on her fiancée rescuing her. “Would you be happier with a wife?” Gaston shrugged, but couldn’t hide the blush coloring his cheeks. “Ah. Would you be happy with the wife he’s chosen for you?”

“Coloratura, The third of Lord Gaillard’s daughters.” Belle remembered her vaguely, no mean feat when trying to remember one of twelve daughters of a distant Duke. “She’s very kind, and beautiful.”

“Might you love her?” Belle asked mischievously, giggling a little when he nodded. “Well then, what are you doing here?” springing up to stand, she turned to face Gaston, reaching down an arm to help him stand. “Go and see to your lady fair. I am content where I am.”

Before she could realize it, she was wrapped up in two strong arms and lifted from the ground. Returning the hug as fiercely as she could, Belle laughed for her friend’s good fortune. When she was firmly planted back on the ground, Gaston pulled away, a small look of worry crossing is face. “But your father, what will I say to him?”

“Tell him you tried to rescue me, and were unsuccessful.” Gasping, with a sly gleam in her eyes “You could even attempt to. Then it wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble… _him_.” Gaston nervously eyed the castle that seemed to loom before them ominously in their planning.

“Issue the challenge, but don’t make any sudden moves to fight. He won’t hurt you if you don’t try to hurt him or those under his protection.” Belle was certain he wouldn’t harm her friend. She’d seen him toy with others, but never harm. “I’ll be sure to see to it that you are safe.”

Gaston nodded and with one last hug and a warrior’s handshake, they went their separate ways, both looking forward with a little more hope towards the future.

She’d been looking forward to seeing the act carried out, knowing Gaston remembered their stories and playacting from their childhood well. She’d been caught off guard by the rose, and it wasn’t until nearly dinner when she asked if any other visitors had come by. Rumpelstiltskin danced artfully around questions until Belle finally hemmed him in. When she learned what he had done, she had demanded, with a vehemence few knew she possessed, that her childhood friend be wholly restored to his proper form. After Gaston was on his way back to her homeland, Belle didn’t speak to Rumpelstiltskin for three days unless out of necessity. Three days of “Yes, my Lord” “No, my Lord” and “As you say, my Lord” The Dark One made his apologies with new found respect for his caretakers loyalty and tenacity.


End file.
